


close your eyes (reach out your hands)

by lilieswho



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, But just a tiny bit, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Secret Santa AU, based on the office Christmas episode, the fic is basically gilbert confused, vaguely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilieswho/pseuds/lilieswho
Summary: After nearly ten years of knowing Anne, Gilbert couldn’t believe how surprised he was when Anne turned to him with wide eyes, as the book she had been so immersed in minutes earlier laid forgotten in her lap.“Gil, I have an idea.”-or: who would've thought that figuring out a gift for Anne would be that hard?
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 17
Kudos: 110





	close your eyes (reach out your hands)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [metsuryuogi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/metsuryuogi/gifts).



> This fic is to the beautiful, the funny, the sweet miss Riley. One of the few good things that this horrible year brought me was your friendship and I couldn't be more grateful for that. When I got your name, I was so happy that I would be able to write you something to make you smile. I know this year has been hard on you as well, but know we all love you and we're here for you. Thank you so much for being this amazing person, full of love, positive thoughts and funny remarks and such a great friend.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this fic as much as I did writing it <3

How easy it would be to show me how you feel?

* * *

Christmas-Anne was truly a sight to behold, Gilbert thought to himself as he watched her rambling in front of him.

For some people, the stress of having people over, being in charge of cooking, decorating and getting everyone the perfect present (or at least _a_ present) was too much. and the holidays were a perfect excuse to snap, reasonably so, at every little thing. But not with Anne.

Anne was the type of person who thrived in situations like this. It was the perfect excuse to use her imagination and her energy to put on something no one would even think about. Planning and decorating Christmas gatherings was her speciality.

That’s why he should’ve seen it coming, really. 

Not being able to go home this year to celebrate with their families due to work, Gilbert knew that their holiday would most likely end up being the two of them on her couch watching Christmas movies and drinking beer. It wasn’t much, but as long as he wasn’t completely alone, he was fine with it. But it was Anne’s favorite holiday and beer and movies just wouldn’t do. Not if she could avoid it.

After nearly ten years of knowing Anne, Gilbert couldn’t believe how surprised he was when Anne turned to him with wide eyes, as the book she had been so immersed in minutes earlier laid forgotten in her lap.

“Gil, _I have an idea.”_

And then she proceeded to tell him that they couldn’t just not do Christmas this year. It was unacceptable, she said. How could someone end their year without a little magic that only that specific day brought to the world?

“You want to have a Christmas party?” he asked, frowning. “But it’s just the two of us. Or is Roy not going home anymore?” Anne shook her head and Gilbert tried not to smile at that. The last thing he wanted was to spend Christmas as a third wheel.

 _“Actually,”_ she said, smiling at him. Gilbert could see the excitement in her eyes as she tried to keep her voice down so she wouldn’t bother the other students. “Ruby’s family is going to visit her sister in Alberta and she can’t afford to go, Charlie doesn’t want to go back to Avonlea for a couple of days, so he’s staying here. Cole doesn’t want to go to Paris with Aunt Jo and the Barrys and Josie and Moody have to work, just like us. No one has plans, so why don’t we celebrate Christmas together?”

“Well—”

“We don’t have to have a big dinner— everyone can bring some takeout and Ruby and I can decorate our apartment, I’m sure she won’t mind if we host it. Oh!” she gripped his arm excitedly. “We can also do Secret Santa, that way everyone gets something nice and won’t have to spend much. What do you say?”

As if he could ever say no to her.

On the same day, the idea was brought up to their friends and soon enough they were all gathered at Gilbert’s apartment to draw the names of their secret santa. Anne brought a Santa hat as Josie wrote everyone’s name on a piece of paper and put it inside. 

The hat passed to all of them before Gilbert was able to pick the last name out of it. He reached into the hat and plucked out the paper, his mind wishing more than anything that he didn’t get Josie or Charlie’s name. The last thing he needed was to try and find something Josie might like — or at least not hate — or get something ridiculous for his friend that he’d surely quickly regret.

Gilbert opened the piece of paper slowly, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible as he read the name written: _Anne_.

A wave of relief washed over him before quickly turning into excitement. Anne. He couldn’t ask to get someone better even if he tried. That would be so easy; Gilbert had known Anne since they were kids and after spending the majority of his time with her, knowing what she liked or wanted wasn’t going to be any trouble at all.

“Now, remember,” Anne said across the room, looking at their group of friends. “Ruby and I will be hosting Christmas at our place so we have two weeks to get the presents and the food sort out. Now, about the time…”

Anne continued to talk about the logistics of the party, but Gilbert’s thoughts were already focused on her present, trying to sort out the dozen ideas that had already crossed his mind about what to give her, which one was the best.

But what seemed to be an easy task turned out to be an almost impossible one. With a blink of an eye, a week had gone by and he still had nothing. Well, not nothing. Gilbert had thought about a couple of options — the book she wanted to read but hadn’t had the time, a CD from a band she’d discovered a few weeks ago and hadn’t stopped talking about, and even a dress Diana had suggested over text that Anne thought it was pretty. 

But nothing seemed… right. All of them were good choices, solid ones, but none felt like the perfect thing for him to give her. What could possibly be the perfect present for a girl he had been in love with since he was fourteen?He sighed, scrolling through his phone during his break at the hospital. One of his co-workers had suggested checking her Instagram, to see if she followed any particular store that might give a clue as to what she’d like, but that was little to no use.

Anne, even on social media, still surrounded herself with nature. Most of the accounts she followed were about plants, trees, nature and animals. He chuckled, clicking on another one. This account was mostly pictures of different types of flowers around the world.

He considered giving her something nature related, for a moment, but gave up on it quickly, remembering Ruby’s rhinitis was the reason why Anne only had plastic flowers and small pots for succulents around their apartment. Even so, she always told him how sad she got whenever her flowers died so far away from their home, which was enough reason to give up on that idea.

The other option he had considered and that Gilbert knew Anne would love was giving her a handmade gift. It wasn’t even hard to think what he could do — she had told him once about how much she missed being able to watch the stars back home. As much time as she spent on the roof reading a book under the stars, it wasn’t anywhere near the same as the Avonlea sky.

It wouldn’t be the same thing, but he was certain she’d love to have that same feeling in her room as she did outside. Painting the constellations on her ceiling with glow in the dark paint would surely make her smile and he’d be able to join her, lying on the floor as he showed her the stars and she told him the stories behind them.

But it didn’t take long for him to realize that as much as that was the perfect idea, there were also a few problems with his plan such as: he firstly needed access to her room so he could pull it off without realizing he was even there. And for that to happen, she would have to sleep somewhere else until Christmas day, when the presents would be revealed. And even if all that wasn’t a problem, there was also the fact that he wasn’t Cole and his abilities with a brush were atrocious.

Gilbert tried to think of something else, _anything._ He thought about them running in the orchard, trying to see who was the fastest out of the two of them, or when Anne had broken her foot after Josie dared her to walk on Moody’s house ridgepole, or when she had dyed her hair green after buying expired hair dye, or even how the romantic notions of a thirteen year old almost made her drown after trying to act out a passage from her book.

Even as a young adult, trouble always seemed to follow her, especially when her temper was put to the test. It was a miracle how far she had come, considering her passion for her adventures that always seemed to get her either injured or in trouble.

He chuckled at those memories. Maybe he should get her some health insurance, just in case the world out there continued to be so unkind to someone who had so much curiosity inside of her. It’d be a lot more expensive than twenty dollars, but he was sure everyone would see how fitting that gift was. 

Before he could think more about it, he felt his pager go off, indicating he was needed somewhere else.

 _Maybe I could call the Cuthberts,_ he thought as he ran towards the elevator. _Or Mary. She’ll probably have a better idea._

***

Three days had gone by and Gilbert was still out of ideas. Calling the Cuthberts and his family for help turned out to be a more difficult job than expected, especially since his hours made it impossible for him to call at a decent time.

Even when he had the time off and was able to call, his body was more interested in sleeping than anything else. That was the case that Wednesday night when Gilbert got home from work. After an eleven hour shift, he had been dreaming of a hot shower, something to eat and his beloved bed.

He had the next day off so that meant relaxing and enjoying his free time catching up with sleep as much as he could.

As soon as he walked into his apartment, though, he knew it would be a little harder than that when he noticed the state of his living room. 

It all had started about a year and a half ago when he had had the brilliant idea of asking Moody to move in with him and Cole. It was necessary, Gilbert reminded himself, putting his keys in the bowl next to the door and taking in the mess in front of him. If Gilbert was being completely honest, he was happier when it was just him and Cole in the first place.

Gilbert spent most of his day out, between his classes and work, and crossed paths with his roommate mostly in the morning before heading out, or on the weekends, when Anne spent the day posing for one of the many portraits Cole did for class. 

It worked perfectly. Both were quiet and had a mutual understanding about organization — neither one of them were necessarily organized, but their mess should stay restricted to their own rooms and the common room should remain clean. Not to mention there was little to no conflict between them, the closest call being when Gilbert accidentally walked in the bathroom, thinking he was home alone, and was met with Cole and some random guy.

Locks were used more than ever after that.

But a few months had gone by and the pair were having a hard time paying their bills on time, with Cole being laid off of work and Gilbert’s low paying internship at the hospital. And just as they were about to consider moving out somewhere cheaper, a heartbroken Moody had knocked on their door — quite literally — in need of a place to stay until he found a new living situation.

Gilbert had known Moody since they were kids and as much as he was one of his closest friends, it surprised him to realize he didn’t know the man as well as he thought. The harmony in his house was soon disrupted with the arrival of their new roommate, starting off with how Moody was incapable of doing _anything_ quietly, from closing doors to trying his best not to wake up the other residents early in the morning or late at night, after he got home from Charlie’s or Ruby’s. Then, there was his clothes, which seemed to be everywhere, whether they were clean or not. It was infuriating, to say the least, but it didn’t seem to bother him in the slightless. 

Gilbert tried to ignore it all as he walked to the bathroom to have his much deserved shower, hoping by the time he got out, Moody would already be home and, maybe, take a little of his mess back to his room. 

By the time he walked back to the living room, still empty and covered with all of Moody’s belongings, Gilbert tried to figure out what he should do next: eat or sleep. He knew there weren’t any leftovers from last night’s Indian food and cooking right now wasn’t even an option — too much stress for a mediocre dish, at best. Gilbert wondered if he could just go down the hall to Anne’s apartment and see if she had something to eat when he remembered her present.

The one he was supposed to call Mary about and ask for help and he forgot. Forgetting all about the food, he picked up his phone from the counter and clicked on the little camera in the corner to talk to his sister in law.

He was met with a crooked close up of his five year old niece, looking intently at the screen. With his sudden appearance, the little girl gasped, before giving him a big smile as she recognized him.

_“Uncle Gil!”_

“Hey Delly,” he said, looking intently to the five year old. She was wearing a bright yellow sweater with her hair up in two braids — a look she had copied from Anne the last time they visited. “How’s my favorite girl?”

“It’s not Friday yet,” she pointed out, ignoring his question and looking up to the calendar next to the couch. “You always call on Fridays.”

“I know, but I miss you so much and I couldn’t wait another _two_ days.” That made her giggle, satisfied. It had been almost two months since he had seen his family back in October and he missed her dearly. “How’s Avonlea? Is it snowing a lot?”

“It’s snowing _so much!_ Daddy and I went to the barn yesterday to feed the horses and we couldn’t get inside because it wouldn’t let us open the door so he had to walk back and grab a shovel to move the snow.”

“Did you help him?” 

Delphine shook her head. “I went inside and had hot chocolate with Mommy. And then we made popcorn.”

Gilbert snorted. Bash had surely loved that outcome, given how winter was by far his least favorite season. It still made him laugh when Bash had moved in in the middle of December with only a few coats that barely kept him warm. Gilbert had returned home from school to find his brother sitting on the porch, wearing two pairs of pants and a bunch of coats, almost freezing to death.

“Is it snowing over there too? Daddy said it is but that it’s much colder here so I shouldn’t worry. But I went to your room and saw you didn’t take your snow boots with you.”

“I have an extra pair over here, don’t worry about it. The snow here isn’t too bad, Anne and I made snow angels the other day.” Her face lit up and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the mention of their favorite redhead or of the activity. 

Anne being Delly’s favorite person outside the family was something that brought Gilbert so much joy and no surprise at all. She had been there helping out Mary when she was pregnant, was always the first one to offer to babysit Delly when they had a date night and Gilbert worked late, and had almost as much fun with the toddler as she had with Anne.

Whenever they were back home from school, his little niece would follow him close around the house, helping him feed the chickens and run around the orchard when he and Bash were harvesting. But when Anne visited, it was like Gilbert was barely there. She’d grab Anne’s hand and pull her into her room to show off all her new drawings even before the redhead could say hello to the family.

“Anne sent me a gift!” she told him, excitedly. “She wrote a book about _me!”_

Gilbert raised his brows, surprised. She hadn’t told him that. “Really?”

Delly stood up from the couch and ran to her bedroom, with the phone still in her hands. She looked around her room before finding the book and showing it to him. _“Look!”_

It was clearly a children’s book, with big pictures and not that many words, but it wasn’t something handwritten or printed from her computer, but probably printed at Anne’s publishing company. If he was being honest, it would be something he’d definitely buy for his niece if he saw it at a bookstore. She closed the book and showed him the cover: a little girl, dressed up in a suit, wearing sunglasses and holding a sippy cup with her initials: DL. Next to her, behind a tree, there was a fox, also wearing sunglasses.

_The Adventures of Delly, the Spy_

_Written by Anne Shirley Cuthbert_

_Illustration by Cole Mackenzie_

“Wow,” he said, impressed. Anne had written a book and he had no idea. 

“She made me a spy! I have to find out where Mrs. Linda hid the magic cookies that make you _fly._ And my best friend is a fox!”

“That’s _so_ cool. Does book Delly find the magic cookies?”

She shook her head, pressing the book against her chest. “I can’t tell you! It’ll ruin the surprise!”

“You’re right, you’re right, sorry.” Gilbert thought it was ironic how she was so adamant to keep it all a secret when Delly was, as any five year old is, the worst secret keeper. “So, what have you been up to?”

She then began to tell him all about all that happened since his last call, mere four days ago, about the farm animals and that they visited the Cuthberts and Matthew let her help him with the chickens before she started showing him all the drawings she had made the past few days.

One of his favorite things about his weekly calls to his niece was how easily she could put his mind at ease. Ever since she was born, Delphine had become the light of his life and he wasn’t shy about showing how much he loved that little girl. It still broke his heart that he had left her all the way back in Avonlea to follow his passions and there wasn’t a day he didn’t miss seeing her grow up.

He tried his best, but every time he went back home and saw how big she was or found out he had missed a milestone — the latest was losing her first tooth — he couldn’t help but feel like he was going to end up just a stranger in her life. One who didn’t get to be there for her birthdays or to cheer her on while she rode a bike for the first time.

“... and did you know I can count to twenty?” she asked, bringing Gilbert back to the conversation. 

Gilbert raised his brows, impressed. “Twenty? All by yourself?”

“Yes!” she answered excitedly, before proceeding to count to twenty proudly. “See? And I can even do it with my eyes closed and it’s so much harder but I can do it!”

“Oh wow, I knew you were smart but if you can count to twenty with your eyes closed, you must be a genius!” Delphine giggled, pleased with the comment. “I think you’ll become a doctor faster than me.”

“I don’t want to be a doctor. I want to be a spy when I grow up!”

“Spies are so much cooler, I can’t deny that.” 

“When are you coming home for Christmas?” the little girl asked, eyes full of hope at seeing her uncle after months since the last visit. “Mommy said she is going to teach me how to bake cookies for when Santa comes with my presents.”

“Oh, I bet he’s going to bring you all the best gifts. What did you write in your letter for Santa?” Gilbert asked, hoping he could distract her from her previous question. For someone who didn’t mind seeing blood on a daily basis and had grown thick skin to all the heartbreaking scenes he would face at the hospital, especially when dealing with life and death, if there was one thing he couldn’t handle it was disappointment in his niece’s eyes.

He missed her with all his heart, the way she’d laugh whenever he tried to make different voices when he read her books before bed or the way she put her tiny hands on his face and stared at him deeply when she wanted to tell him something serious. 

It had been almost three months since he had visited home and saw Delphine in person. She had run towards his arms as soon as he exited his Uber, hugging him tightly before telling him about all the things they’d do together while he was home. He had promised her back then he’d return for Christmas and earned a stern look from Mary for making a promise he wasn’t sure he’d be able to fulfill, but Gilbert had been sure he’d make it.

Well, clearly, he was wrong.

“I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.” She arched her brows, surprised he had asked such a question. “Mommy said she put all of our letters in the mail to the North Pole so Santa would get it but you weren’t here to write one and he won’t know what you want for Christmas.”

“Oh don’t you worry about that, Delly. I wrote mine here and sent it to him; I’m sure he’ll give me what I asked for.”

“But you won’t be there! He doesn’t know you’ll be back here and you won’t have anything under the tree!”

He bit his lip, hesitating, trying to figure out the best way to break the news to her. “Well... Uh, you know how I am in school to be a doctor?” She nodded and he continued. “I’m also studying how to make people better at a hospital near my school, you see.”

“Yes, Daddy said you were fixing people that got really hurt.”

“Exactly. And some of those people are so hurt that they need someone with them to make sure they get better.” He stopped, watching her face and hoping she’d understand what he was trying to say. 

“Like when I take care of my dolls when they get hurt, right?” she asked innocently. “Or when you take care of me when my tummy hurts?”

“Yes, just like that. Uh... So, for me to make sure they get better, I need to stay with them for a while longer... That means I can’t go home for Christmas. I have to stay here in Toronto.”

He wasn’t sure what made him feel worse: Delphine’s expression or the tears already threatening to fall from her eyes. Before he had the chance to say anything to make the situation better, Delphine dropped the phone and he could hear her running away from it, crying.

This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. He had a plan to tell her this Friday during their weekly call; he was going to make sure to talk with Bash and Mary first to know how to approach it, but now he’d broken his niece’s heart and made her cry because of him. 

_“What’s wrong?”_ he heard Mary ask, voice concerned. _“Who were you talking to just now? Daddy?”_

_“Uncle Gil. He said he won’t come for Christmas.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“He don’t like me anymore, he doesn't want to see me.”_ Her voice was muffled but he could hear her perfectly clear. Mary was probably in the room, looking for the phone Delly had dropped. _“I asked Santa to bring him home and Uncle Gil said he won’t be here. Does that mean I wasn’t good?”_

Gilbert closed his eyes. He should’ve called Bash’s phone and avoided all this, or at least asked for Mary instead of continuing to talk to Delly, knowing perfectly well the upcoming holiday would be brought up at some point. Now his niece was crying and thinking it was her fault he wasn’t home.

“Of course not, love. You were very good this year,” Mary said, showing up on camera as she picked up the phone from the ground. Delphine was in her arms, face tucked into her neck, still crying. “I’m sure Uncle Gil would love to be here with you. You know how much he loves you.”

“I do, Delly,” he said as soon as he was sure she’d hear him. “And I also put in my letter to Santa to be home with you but I can’t this year. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“What’s going on here?” He heard Bash’s voice in the background and Mary turned the camera for him to see it. “Blythe! Why are you making my daughter cry?”

Before he could say anything, Mary handed him Delphine and kissed the top of her head. “Why don’t you show her the horses while I talk to Gilbert?”

“Okay,” he nodded, looking at Gilbert one more time before turning to his daughter, already walking out of shot. “What do you say, baby girl? Want to feed the horses with daddy?”

After a few seconds, Gilbert heard the door closing and soon enough Mary’s eyes were on him, casting a dirty look at him. 

Growing up without a mother deprived him of those looks for most of his life. Not that he’d done much to deserve them, but at the occasional misbehaved moment, John would raise a brow for a moment before touching his shoulders and ask him if whatever he was doing or saying was a good idea.

He never saw Mary as a mother figure. Not when she started dating Bash and soon moved in with them. Yes, she was more in charge of the house and was clearly the authority figure between the three of them, but it wasn’t like she was trying to replace the role of his mother or father.

Just like he saw Bash as a brother, Gilbert was more than happy to gain a sister into his new little family. It wasn’t until she joined their lives that Gilbert realized how much he missed being cared for by someone else, from warm smiles to scolds after doing something stupid, like right now.

He sighed, waiting for what he was sure would be the most disapproving speech she’d ever given to him.

“You look exhausted. How many hours have you been sleeping?”

Gilbert blinked, frowning. “Uh, not much. Between classes, studying for my tests and the job… I guess sleeping isn’t a priority right now. Wait, aren’t you mad?”

“I’m disappointed and upset that you won’t be joining us for the holidays. But no,” she said, softly. “I’m not mad.”

“But… I broke my promise to Delphine—”

“I’m not mad that you broke it, I know you have a lot going on over there and that you would be here if you could.” She paused, her mouth turning into a line in a way that he knew meant she was upset with him. “But I told you not to not make any promises without being absolutely sure you could keep them. And you didn’t listen to me.”

He closed his eyes, nodding. There was nothing he could say to her or even to himself to make the situation better. There was no use telling her that he tried his hardest to get Christmas off to come and spend the holidays with his family, but for what? He clearly hadn’t made it and it wouldn’t make him, Mary or Delphine feel any better.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He sighed, suddenly feeling all that guilty weight on his shoulders. “I hope she doesn’t stay upset with me forever.”

Mary rolled her eyes, giving him a smile. “Of course she won’t. She’s five. By your next phone call, she’ll be too busy telling you about her new fox friend that she won’t even have the time to be mad at you.”

Gilbert chuckled. “She showed me the book. I can’t believe Anne wrote it for her.”

“Delphine is showing it to everybody. We went to the Cuthbert's the other night for dinner and she asked Matthew to read it to her so he wouldn’t miss Anne too much. That girl…”

“I know… Anne is truly something else, huh?”

Mary smiled knowingly, resting her chin on her hand as her eyes roamed his face. “So what’s on your mind? I imagine talking to Delphine and sharing your Christmas plans wasn’t the reason why you called.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he said. “I was wondering if you could help me with a gift for Anne. A bunch of us are staying behind and she wanted to do something special, so we’re doing a Secret Santa.”

“And you got Anne?” Mary laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, just you wait till I tell Sebastian about it. He’ll surely have a lot of ideas…”

“Yes, I can imagine his suggestions.” There was no doubt in his mind that the first thing out of Bash’s mouth would be for him to stop being a moke and tell her about his feelings already. “That’s why I called _you.”_

“Well, what about a book? You know how much she loves them, maybe get her something she’s been wanting to buy and hasn’t yet,” she suggested. “Or a little charm for the bracelet Matthew gave to her on her 16th birthday. She’d love that.”

Gilbert shrugged, unconvinced. “I don’t know. I don’t want to get her something too generic or that she could get it herself. Christmas is her favorite holiday, I want to give her something special.”

“Well, that’s all I have for you. But I’m sure you’ll figure something out and no matter what it is, she’ll love it.”

“I hope so,” he sighed. Even though Mary’s ideas were great, it still didn’t feel right. Maybe he should try Diana again, see if she had any new suggestions.

Once they said their goodbyes and Mary finished the call, Gilbert laid back on his couch, shoulders tense. His day was already hard and now he had to end it with his niece being heartbroken, Mary not being pleased with him breaking promises he made with Delphine and, to top it off, he still didn't have an idea of a gift for Anne.

Even though he was running out of time, all he wanted to do was to close his eyes and try and get some sleep. Perhaps, when he was well rested, it’d be easier to figure out what to give to her. At the worst case scenario, he’d get her something on Amazon.

Just as he was starting to relax, someone burst in his front door, startling him awake.

“What—”

“Hey, I’m not here, I just need to return Cole’s—” Anne stopped, finally looking at him, rubbing his face with a sigh as he sat straight on the couch. The smile dropped from her face as she watched him closely. “What’s wrong?”

“I just called home to let them know I wouldn’t be home for Christmas. It didn’t go well.”

She nodded, understanding.

“I called Marilla two days ago. She was not happy about it either.”

He sighed. “It’s not just that. I had to tell Delphine and she cried. Now, she hates me.”

"She doesn't hate you," Anne said softly, sitting next to him. "She's five, she misses you, that's all. I'm sure the next time you call, she'll be excited to share her new adventures with you."

Gilbert scoffed. Mary had said the same thing, but it was hard to believe once he had seen her that upset because of him. "She thinks I don't want to see her and that Santa is mad at her. Because," he explained, watching Anne frown, confused, "she asked him to bring me home for Christmas. How can I not feel like I’m being an awful uncle?”

Anne held his hand, squeezing it lightly. “It sucks that you have to work but that doesn’t make you an awful uncle. You call her every week just to hear about what she did in school and then manage to spend a full hour talking about dinosaurs with her.” He chuckled, thinking about how he had researched the subject thoroughly before that call. “And you have a picture of her as your screensaver on your computer and your phone and I’m sure your locker at work has at least two.”

“Three,” he corrected. “If you count a drawing she made of us. That’s not the point, though.”

“The point is: you’re not there not because you don’t want to be with her, but because you’re an adult with obligations and bills to pay. Do you think I wanted to spend my Christmas here instead at home with Matthew and Marilla?”

Anne was absolutely right, as usual, although a little out of character for his liking.

“You’re being awfully reasonable about all this,” he joked, eyeing her. “I was expecting more of a _‘let’s both be in the depths of despair for this great injustice in our lives’_ kind of speech.”

Anne scoffed, pretending to be offended. “I’ll remember that the next time I try to do something nice for you.”

His eyes slowly moved to her face, thinking about the conversation he’d had with Delly before things went south. “Speaking of doing something nice.” Anne raised her brows, waiting. “I hear Anne Shirley-Cuthbert is a published author now.”

She frowned. “What?”

“According to the critics, _The Adventures of Delly, the Spy_ is a best-seller and has the Lacroix seal of approval.” Her cheeks quickly turned pink, the realization of what he meant hitting her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was nothing to tell.” Anne bit her lip, looking away as if she was embarrassed. It didn’t make any sense, what did she have to be embarrassed about? “It’s just a little something I wrote for Delly as a Christmas present.”

“You wrote a _book.”_

Anne scoffed. “Hardly. It has like twenty-eight pages and it’s mostly illustrations rather than words. Cole did most of the job, really.”

“Yeah and I’ll make sure to let him know how cool his illustrations are, but first,” he pulled on her sleeve, and she finally looked at him. Anne was one of the most confident people he knew, always so sure of herself and her intelligence, hardly ever hesitating over her decisions, especially when their purpose was to correct the injustices of the world. 

There was a time he was sure she’d study to become a lawyer to be able to fight harder than she already did for not only the people who she cared about, but also the people who deserved better or were overlooked by everyone else. Anne was a fighter by nature and that was one of the things he loved most about her, but her passion laid mostly in her imagination and her education, not in the legal system.

He saw her with Delphine multiple times, teaching her about nature, how to listen for an owl at night or how to be gentle with every living creature surrounding them. She always told his niece how important it was for her to be nice to everyone and everything. _Kindness, my dearest Delphine, can make all the difference to someone,_ he remembered Anne saying to her once.

For all the kindness Anne held in her heart, it was hardly ever used on herself. Gilbert would think that was one of the biggest ironies in life, Anne unable to be kind to herself, but he knew better. Growing up the way she did, with the people who were supposed to care for her and love her but chose not to, what surprised him the most was how Anne still had the uplifting spirit she had.

“I didn’t tell anybody,” she finally said, leaning back on the couch and crossing her arms. “Cole did the illustrations and I printed it at work, so my supervisor knows, but other than that, only Bash, Mary and Delly know. And, well, you.”

“Why not? We’d all be supportive of it, you know we would.”

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. It’s a children’s book, not the next Austen novel.”

“So what?” Gilbert asked, watching her intently, trying to understand where she was coming from. She always loved writing and it was a rare occasion that she chose not to show people her work, especially if it was him. “It doesn’t mean it’s not good. Not only did you manage to write a book, but you made a little girl elated for seeing herself doing something as cool as being a spy.”

Anne considered his words for a moment.

“I guess so. She did seem excited when Mary texted me the picture of her with the book… And I wanted to tell you, but it felt so… Ordinary. Not worth the fuss.”

“You, Anne-girl, are anything but ordinary. Neither is your work.”

Anne didn’t answer and Gilbert pulled her closer, throwing an arm around her shoulder and dropping a kiss on her temple. “So,” he said, smiling down at her. “Mrs. Linda is totally Mrs. Lynde, isn’t it?”

Anne laughed, relaxing on his arm and Gilbert couldn’t help but think how nice this was. It wasn’t hard for his mind to wonder about the what ifs of it all. Maybe he’d be coming home to Anne someday after a long day of work and finding comfort in her arms as they shared stories about their days. 

It’d be nice, he thought, allowing himself to smile at the scenario. But, as soon as that crossed his mind, he wondered if that was the type of thing Anne and Roy did whenever one of them had a hard day. Did her head lay in the crook of his neck, pressing her body closer to his as he told her some boring story about whatever he did at his father’s company? Would his fingers bury in her hair, gently massaging her scalp just like he was doing right now?

Before his mind could go any deeper, he heard the fumbling of keys and soon enough Moody was closing the door behind him and smiling at the pair. 

“What are you guys up to?” he asked, taking off his coat and dropping his backpack next to the door, adding to the mess he already had left earlier. 

“Well, Anne and I were just remembering how nice it was when it was just Cole and I as roommates and I could actually see the floor,” Gilbert commented, staring at him. “And wondering why I can’t do that anymore.”

Moody turned to face him, mouth opened at the comment, slowly getting the hint. Still, he managed to ask: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Gilbert crossed his arms, looking around the room, “that you are _too_ messy and it’s fine if it’s in your room, but the common room is supposed to be a place where we can relax.”

“If you ask me, you two look pretty relaxed right now cuddled up on the couch,” he mumbled, turning around and walking towards the fridge. Gilbert could feel his cheeks turning red at the insinuation, but Anne didn’t seem to catch the comment. And even if she did, she didn’t seem too bothered by it. “It's not like you’re organized either, you know?”

He frowned. “What? Of course I am.”

“You leave your books everywhere whenever you’re studying outside your room, and when you’re on your calls with Delly, you always find a way to throw the couch cushions across the room for some reason,” he said, his back still facing both of them. In Gilbert’s defense, playing with a child through the phone required creativity and if he had to throw cushions to make space, so be it. “Not mention that you _pee—”_

“Alright, fine, you made your point,” he quickly said, stopping Moody from talking too much, even though it wasn’t hard to guess what the end of that sentence was going to be like. “But that’s nothing compared to _this.”_

“Unless you’re cooking,” Anne said next to him, brows raised and an amused smile on her lips. “Even when you’re frying an egg you manage to destroy your kitchen.”

“I clean it up!” He heard Moody scoff from the other room. _“I do!”_

“The dishes? Yes. The stove? Hardly.”

“He’s not wrong, you know. Before we moved to Toronto, Mary pulled me aside and warned me about it in case we decided to move in together.” Anne bit her lip, in a failed attempt to not laugh at his face. “Just so I knew what I was getting myself into. And to always cook extra just so you would have something decent to eat.”

“I get that I have a bad reputation regarding cooking but it’s not like I’d starve to death either.” Gilbert looked between his friends, almost insulted that neither one of them could keep a straight face.

“Didn’t Anne once spoon feed you in freshman year because you wouldn’t leave your room for three days while you were studying for your finals?” Moody asked, making Gilbert blush with the memory.

Even though him and Anne were studying different things and didn’t have a single common class ever since freshman year, the competition between them never died down. It got better, to a point, since it wasn’t destructive anymore — with Anne angry at him for days for beating her in math or Gilbert, although impressed, a little jealous that her essay on Margaret Atwood’s _The Handmaid’s Tale_ got a top mark and his didn’t.

After discovering how well they worked together, they had a weekly study session to help each other out and that had continued throughout college. But, for Gilbert, it wasn’t about getting better grades than Anne anymore, but about being the best doctor he could possibly be. And if that meant driving himself into exhaustion every single day, so be it.

That particular moment was one of his lowest so far. It was the first time he felt he was in over his head, unable to deal with so much — twenty four hours weren’t nearly enough for him to deal with his part time job, his schoolwork and his classes. Sleeping had become a luxury and taking care of himself was a reward he never seemed to get. It got to a point where Cole was the one doing his laundry because it was clear that that wasn’t even on his mind.

And then Anne, who was busy enough with her own job and workload, pulled him out of what he would realize later was an anxiety attack. She knew that there was no stopping him until he had taken his last test, so, instead, she helped him out in exchange for little goals. She’d quiz him for an hour if he would take a shower or help with his research after a well deserved nap.

It didn’t work every time. As much as Anne was stubborn, so was Gilbert and they had to compromise more than once to not drive each other insane. Anne ordering takeout and feeding it to him while he took a mock test was one of those things.

“If you want to remember things, what about the time you tried to cook something to bring to Ruby’s? And _then,”_ continued Gilbert, crossing his arms, “managed to evacuate the entire floor because the fire alarm went off.”

Anne frowned. “Didn’t you almost do the same thing?”

“ _Exactly!”_ Moody said, smiling proudly as he turned his attention back to the kitchen. Gilbert turned his head, brows up, almost offended that she had taken Moody’s side over his.

“The alarm didn’t go off! I just had to open the windows so— you know what, this is a ridiculous conversation and so not the point.”

“Well, as much as I love proving you wrong,” Anne said, standing up. Gilbert mourned the warmth of her body pressed to his immediately and couldn’t help but blame Moody for that as well. “I have a ten page paper to write and I’ve already spent more time than I should here. I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow.”

“Bye, Anne,” Moody waved at her across the room, closing the fridge with his foot while holding some ingredients in his other hand. The girl smiled and looked at Gilbert.

“You okay?” she asked in a lower tone and he could see, behind the warmth of her eyes, a hint of concern was still in there. 

“Yeah,” he answered honestly. The situation was still bothering him, but her being there was already more than enough to make him feel more at ease. “You?”

“Yeah.” Anne smiled, squeezing his hand and walking towards the door. “Try not to murder Moody tonight.”

“I make no promises.”

After Anne left, Gilbert announced that he had some studying to do and locked himself in his bedroom for the rest of the night. As much as that was true, he did have a procedure to study for next week, he couldn’t help but think about something Anne had said before they were interrupted.

She had given his niece the most thoughtful present anyone could ever think of, making her so happy and yet, she didn’t think that was worth mentioning. It wasn’t the first time that had happened either — neither Gilbert or even Diana knew that she had sent some short stories to get published and had been rejected until he saw the papers on her nightstand one day. They didn’t mention it, Anne was too proud and would be ashamed to admit so, even though she’d try to play it cool in front of them.

But Gilbert knew her better than that. She had dreamed about becoming a writer ever since they were kids and she had opened a Storybook club, to improve each other’s writing and imagination. Of course, he wasn’t even allowed to participate — _“It’s a girls thing, Gil”_ which, later, he found out was an excuse since Ruby wasn’t able to write anything but —bert stories and his presence would only make it worse — but she had gifted him over the years some of her best stories, excited to hear his thoughts on them.

He loved each and every one of them. Anne had an imagination beyond compare and, even at the tender age of fourteen, Gilbert could see her going as far as the authors they studied in class so passionately. His favorite stories were the ones about the two of them, either narrating an adventure that had actually happened — when they hitchhiked on the train to Charlottetown to get concert tickets — or the ones that would only be possible in her imaginations — like the story where they were pirates navigating the seven seas in search for the Queen’s stolen diamond bracelet, vaguely inspired by his mother’s bracelet she had always loved.

And as much as she loved coming up with ideas and putting them onto paper — always by hand, excuse you — nothing was ever good enough for her to actually consider taking a shot at publication. Gilbert looked at the nightstand next to him and opened the top drawer, looking for his Anne folder, full of their little moments throughout their college years.

He didn’t have them all — most of it had stayed safe and sound at home, ready to be read whenever he was feeling down and in need of distraction, but Gilbert made sure to pack some of her stories to accompany him all the way to Toronto. Gilbert wasn’t sure if she knew he had them — he never mentioned it, but also never hid them from her, but part of him suspected Anne had no idea he kept them all.

Looking at the papers in front of him, an idea struck him. The perfect gift for Anne suddenly became so clear. It wouldn't be too hard to do and he could call in a favor or two to get it done in time for Christmas. Gilbert quickly reached for his phone, needing to call Mary immediately. 

He couldn’t wait for her to open her present.

***

Christmas Day had finally arrived and Anne had done an exceptional job at decorating her apartment.

Gilbert shouldn’t have been surprised, really; it wasn’t as if it would be a small plastic tree in the corner of the room with a few lights and some basic decorations around her apartment. No. Anne had gone all out to make sure the Christmas spirit would still be there, even if they were all far from home.

“Do you like it?” Anne asked, closing the door behind him. She looked radiant, dressed in a green sweater that mimicked a Christmas tree, draped in gold tinsel and red pom poms. He wouldn’t put it past her to actually grab an old sweater and decorate it to look more festive, but with her schedule at her two part-time jobs, he doubted she had the time. 

“You’ve outdone yourself,” he answered, looking around the apartment. “The place looks great, Anne.”

“She barely slept this week to get it all done,” Ruby said, from the kitchen. “She wanted it to be perfect.”

“I know everyone is hating not being able to spend Christmas at home, but it should still feel like home.”

“This is much better than if we were all drinking beer around the fireplace feeling bad about ourselves, as Charlie suggested,” Gilbert agreed, smiling at her. He knew that, even though it was her favorite holiday, the reason why she had done all this was to make their friends happy.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the gang to show — Josie with champagne in hand, Moody and Cole with cookies they bought somewhere on their way home from work and Charlie, wearing a ridiculous mistletoe headband, claiming that it was a tradition back home.

By nine, Gilbert was sure no one in that apartment would wake up the next morning without a hangover. Aside from Josie’s cheap champagne, Cole had made them enough spiked eggnog to last the rest of the week, if nobody died of alcohol poisoning first.

Moody, by far, would be the one who would suffer the most, Gilbert predicted. He looked like a ball of anxiety, constantly looking in Ruby’s direction and reaching for another beer. It’d be entertaining, if Gilbert didn’t know exactly how he was feeling regarding a possible unrequited love. 

Not that it was unrequited, per se. Moody had never made his feeling clear to Ruby or even attempted to. Gilbert wasn’t sure how to act on it, since, to him and the rest of the gang, it was obvious she also had feelings for him and was waiting for Moody to actually make a move, but the boy insisted he couldn’t do a thing before he knew for sure he wouldn’t be rejected.

“I hope you’re not here to kiss me,” Moody said, when he saw Gilbert approaching wearing Charlie’s mistletoe headband. “I’m not _that_ drunk.”

“Not unless you _ask,”_ he said, as his friend chuckled and took another sip of his beer.

“Easy with that,” Gilbert said, taking the beer from his hand. “You’re going to throw up before the night is over and I’ll lose a bet with Cole.”

“Very funny.” He crossed his arms, glancing at Ruby for a moment. Gilbert noticed and sighed.

“You could go over there. Tell her she looks nice tonight and start a conversation.”

Moody scoffed, like that was the most ridiculous idea in the world. “Yeah, and then I’d make a fool of myself.”

“Better than be the party creeper who keeps staring at her.”

“You’re the one to talk,” Moody said, looking at him. “If you go over there and talk to Anne, I’ll do the same with Ruby.”

“Fine,” he said, surprising Moody. It wasn’t like he was going to hit on Anne, she was only his friend _and_ she was taken and if that’s what it would take for Moody to finally act on his feelings towards Ruby, so be it.

He found her across the room, a cup of eggnog in hand as she laughed about something Cole was telling her. She looked radiant, Gilbert thought. He could say that Christmas-Anne, all excited and bright-eyed for the first snow of the season or because of the family comfort and warmth surrounding her, was his favorite Anne, but that wouldn’t be true.

He loved Christmas-Anne as much as he loved Everyday-Anne, the one who would smile sleepily at him after a long night study session or press her cold feet against his ribs whenever he was about to fall asleep mid movie night. The one who wrote a book for a little girl just to make her happy and took none of the praise people tried to give her over it. The Anne who yelled at him when she was thirteen and cracked his Kindle screen when she hit him with it after his first attempt at getting her attention.

“...I mean, how was I supposed to know that?” Cole asked, crossing his arms, which made Anne laugh harder. He shook his head, a small smile appearing on his lips before he noticed Gilbert before Anne could. “I think I’m going to get some more eggnog, be right back.”

“Why do I feel like Cole might be running away from me?”

Anne turned around to face him, eyes immediately going to the top of his head. “What are you _wearing?”_ she asked, laughing.

The smell of Josie’s cheap champagne on her breath tickled his chin.

Gilbert shrugged, drinking more of his eggnog. Charlie had left it on the couch and, honestly, as stupid as that mistletoe headband was, he couldn’t just leave it all alone. It was _Christmas,_ after all. 

“I’m protecting you girls from Charlie,” he said instead. “Ruby has been running away from him all night and Josie already threatened to punch him if he got anywhere close to her with it on.”

“Oh, so this is purely for his safety?” Anne raised her brows, smirking. “No ulterior reasons whatsoever?”

He chuckled. “If you remember correctly, worrying about Charlie’s safety, _especially_ when it comes to getting slapped or punched by a girl or their boyfriends, was something I spent a lot of time doing back in high school.”

 _Especially when he found an interest in you,_ Gilbert thought. It had come as a shock when his friend had texted him one day asking if he’d be fine if he asked Anne out sometime. Gilbert’s feelings were never exactly a secret but he had long accepted it would never be anything more than friendship so he treated it as such.

But it had felt wrong to think that someone in their group of friends, one of his oldest friends even, also had feelings for her. Not that it would be impossible — Anne charmed everyone she met with her wits and bright personality — but it had never occurred to him that she had touched anyone’s heart but his own.

Gilbert had texted Charlie back, letting him know that he had no place in decisions aboutAnne’s love life and just waited for the rest to unfold. With no surprise, it had gone as badly as it could’ve possibly gone with Charlie; in his attempts to be charming, he had told her he’d take her out instead of asking her if she was even interested.

A very public lashing out about his choice of words and attitude towards women was made by her, ending with him pulling Charlie back the moment he had told her not to be so _hysterical_ about it and he saw the very well known anger flash in her eyes.

“Oh, yes, I remember that. Very inconvenient of you to do so, by the way.”

“Didn’t think of it that way when I saved _you_ from another suspension.” He smiled as she rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Marilla would’ve been livid if you had smashed another Kindle on someone’s head.”

She raised her eyebrows and Gilbert knew he had hit a nerve, trying his hardest not to break a smile, but failing horribly. 

“I’m not twelve _or_ sixteen anymore for that to work, Blythe.” She poked him before turning her gaze back to the mistletoe hanging between them. “Besides, what makes you think you wearing this headband is any better than Charlie?”

“For starters, besides Cole, no one’s run away from me when I approached them.” He shrugged. “I think that’s a good enough reason.”

Anne arched an eyebrow, biting back a smile. “So you’re saying that you won’t make any of us kiss you while you’re wearing that?”

“Are you offering, Shirley?”

It took a moment before Gilbert realized what he had said, but before either of them could properly react to it, a very drunk Josie pulled Anne away from him, scream-whispering: _“Did you see how Moody almost kissed Ruby?”_

Gilbert groaned internally. What the hell was he thinking, asking her a question like that? 

He didn’t have time to dwell on it as a pale Moody walked by him, directly to the bathroom. Gilbert sighed, going after him. This would surely be a _long_ night.

It didn’t take long to talk things over with Moody and bring him back to join the rest of the gang, keeping a safe distance between him and Ruby, who was more focused on finishing whatever she was cooking for dinner than to glance over to the pair of them. The time passed by quickly, Josie telling everybody about something that had happened at work the other day and Charlie humoring everybody with some story that Gilbert was pretty sure was a lie.

“Anne, can we do presents now?” Ruby asked, looking up from her spot on the couch, an hour later. “I don’t think I can keep it a secret any longer who I got for Secret Santa.”

She looked around to the other five people in her living room and they all nodded, gathering around the tree as Moody and Gilbert got the presents from across the room, setting them on the coffee table. They all sat around the presents, trying to decide who would be the first one to open one, until Josie rolled her eyes and grabbed the one with her name on top and started to open it up.

It wasn’t hard for her to figure out who got her — if it wasn’t for the way the gift was carefully wrapped, the content inside would have been a dead giveaway. The scented candles were painted in light shades of pink and purple, her favorite colors, and in the center of each one of them there was her name written in the most beautiful penmanship. Josie smiled brightly, taking in her present and hugging Cole for such beautiful work.

It was a very thoughtful and beautiful gift, and Gilbert was glad that he wasn’t the one who had picked Josie’s name. He wasn’t sure if her Santa had been anyone but Cole and Ruby, she’d have shown so much appreciation. Cole was next to open his, getting a set of new paint brushes that Gilbert knew he was in much need of, which was why he guessed Gilbert as the one who had picked his name. He guessed another couple of people before saying Ruby’s name.

Gilbert glanced at the box that had Anne’s name on it. So far the presents had been pretty simple, not too personal and very limited to their predefined budget. Even though he hadn’t spent much on her present, they were still deeply personal and intimate and giving them to her in front of everybody… was probably not a good idea.

As Ruby pulled her bath bombs out of the box in front of her, thanking Josie in the process, Gilbert tried to think what he could do at that moment to avoid Anne opening hers and, maybe, get her present back. While one of them would fit perfectly with tonight’s theme, the other one would be best if given in private.

But Ruby was faster than him and picked up the box with her name.

“Oh, this one’s for you, Anne,” Ruby said, handing her the gift. He bit his lip, watching as Anne unwrapped her present excitedly. Everything seemed to move slower when she finally looked at the book in her hands. Gilbert’s eyes were stuck on Anne’s face, as she took her time admiring the present.

He had purposely chosen a simple cover, blue with silver flowers decorating it, with the title, in the same color, reading _The Storybook_. He’d picked the name carefully. Even though he had not participated in the original Storybook Club back when they were younger, he knew she still missed those days.

Gilbert missed them too.

He watched as her lips curved into a wide smile, her fingers tracing gently over the cover as she realized where the title came from and wondered what the book was supposed to contain on the inside. And in that moment, he wished he had waited. He wished he had found something else, _anything_ else instead of this present to give to her, just so he could deliver this one when they were alone and he could study her face closer as she opened the book and read its contents and realized what else might be in it.

“Oh, I think there’s something inside,” Ruby said, leaning closer to Anne and pulling the small object out of the book.

“Oh, _come on_ ,” he heard Charlie say. “This was supposed to be a 20 dollar gift exchange. Who went overboard with Anne’s?”

Every single pair of eyes landed on him, and Gilbert felt his cheek warm from all the attention. For some reason, of all the things he was expecting to come out of giving Anne this gift, people realizing he was her Secret Santa so quickly wasn’t one of them.

He opened his mouth to say something, perhaps a half assed excuse of how he had forgotten how much they were supposed to spend or that it had more sentimental value than monetary, but the words died in his mouth when Anne finally looked in his direction, surprise in her eyes.

She had recognized it.

“Uh,” he started, his eyes roaming around the room, almost like he was expecting something to happen or someone to come and get him out of this situation. “Why do you all think it came from me?”

Josie rolled her eyes. “Well, for _starters…”_

“Josie,” Cole cut her off, shaking his head lightly before looking at Gilbert. “You have the worst poker face of all of us, you were so nervous when Ruby handed her the present, so it’s obviously you.”

Josie scoffed. “Yes, obviously.”

“Also, who else would’ve gotten Anne jewelry?” asked Moody, earning an eye roll from Cole for his lack of subtlety.

“It’s not… It wasn’t—” He avoided looking at Anne, focusing on his shoes for a moment. What was he supposed to say? Anne already knew what it was and she was probably embarrassed by receiving the object with the most value out of their friends, especially with Charlie’s comment. 

He couldn’t believe this had gone so badly. He had been so excited at finally figuring out what to give her that he never took the time to think about how the others would react or what the gift would mean. Josie and Cole seemed to grasp onto the situation pretty quickly, the words almost bursting out of the blonde girl’s mouth if Cole hadn’t stopped her in time. It’s not like it was a secret. As much as he liked to think he was subtle about his feelings towards Anne, she was probably the only person who didn’t notice how much he loved her.

“I think you’re next, Charlie,” Ruby said, sending Gilbert a sympathetic look. She was able to bring the focus back to the gift exchange, which he was very much grateful for. “I think it’s a lovely present, don’t you?” Gilbert heard the blonde girl whispering to Anne, who couldn’t stop looking at him. 

They moved on, exchanging gifts and drinking more of Josie’s cheap champagne. Moody had bought Charlie motorcycle gloves, which was the perfect distraction from Anne when Josie rolled her eyes, reminding them all he didn’t even drive a motorcycle to start. Moody’s Secret Santa was Anne, who had bought him a set of guitar picks and soon after, all eyes were on Gilberts once more when he opened his present to find that Charlie had gotten him a pack of socks, drawing laughs from everyone.

“He always complains about not having enough!” Charlie argued.

The Christmas dinner passed without any more trouble. Anne and Ruby had ordered some food for them, but he could see they had also managed to bake something more festive and in theme with the holiday, such as Ruby’s famous Shepherd's pie and Marilla’s plum puffs. 

He made a point to sit on the opposite end of the table from where Anne was, trying to focus on whatever Moody and Josie were arguing about, doing his best to ignore Anne’s eyes, which seemed to follow him everywhere. How was he supposed to handle that? At best, he was expecting her to be excited and give him a hug — at worst, she’d cry and he would have to focus on that instead. 

But she hadn’t done either. Anne seemed not only surprised, but also a little confused. After everyone was done with their food, they all gathered next to each other in the living room, telling stories about back home while passing around the wine. Anne had tried to talk to him then, but, luckily, Bash had called and he had an excuse to step out in the hall to answer his call.

Later that night, he was one of the few still left at Anne’s apartment. Charlie was the first one to leave, telling everyone he had a date with the girl from the coffee shop down the street. Cole went back to their apartment down the hall with Moody, claiming it was best if the boy went to bed before doing anything stupid, leaving Josie, Ruby, Anne and Gilbert to clean up the mess.

That didn’t last long. Josie was already sleepy by the time they started bringing the dishes to the kitchen and Ruby soon waved him goodnight as she pulled Josie to her room. He knew that was his cue to leave, go back to his apartment and hide in his bedroom until the next morning, but he didn’t want to go home yet.

Instead, he sat on the couch for a moment, eyes fixed on the tree in front of him, trying to get his head to stop spinning for a moment. He could blame the alcohol, sure, but Gilbert would be lying to himself if he didn’t acknowledge the reason for it all was Anne. It was always Anne.

“You know, Santa doesn’t come until _all_ the children are tucked in bed,” he heard Anne say, sitting next to him. “Staring at a tree won’t magically make the presents appear.”

He chuckled. “After Charlie’s amazing socks, I don’t think Santa can give me something more meaningful and close to my heart.”

“Speaking of something meaningful and close to your heart…” Anne bit her lip, grabbing his hand and putting something in his palm. He didn’t have to look at it to know what it was.

“You don’t… like it?” He met her eyes.

 _“Of course_ I do, you know that,” she said, scooching closer to him. “But this is your mother’s bracelet, I can’t… It’s too much, Gil.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, taking her hand and putting it on her wrist. He smiled, satisfied to see how it fit perfectly. “It was in my dad’s box, full of dust and _I_ wasn’t going to wear it anytime soon. And I know how much you like it.”

“It’s a family heirloom. You could give to your wife someday. Or daughter.”

Gilbert had tried to picture his life with a wife or a daughter before and even as she said it, he tried once more, but he couldn’t help but see Anne right next to him, wearing a wedding band on her left hand. When he pictured children, most of them had the same shade of hair as Anne or the same determined look in her eyes.

He knew it wasn’t a possibility; Anne didn’t like him that way, but ever since he was fifteen, he couldn’t think about anyone else the way he did about Anne. Even when he had been in a relationship with Winnie or Christine— he had liked each of them dearly, and if he was someone else, he was sure he could have seen a future with either of them, but he couldn’t.

It was Anne. It was always Anne.

“No. I don’t think I can see anyone but you with it,” he said softly. “You’ve been enamored with it since we were kids. Besides, I was actually planning on giving to you on your twenty-fifth birthday.”

“Gil…”

“I mean it. It’s yours.” He smiled at her. 

“Thank you.” Anne looked at the bracelet, smiling, before meeting his eyes once more. “And the book… How did you—”

“You used to give me your stories when they were done, remember? I brought some with me but most of them were still home. Mary sent them over.”

Anne’s eyes softened at that, mouth falling slightly open as she took in his words. She didn’t say anything for a few moments, just continued to look at him as if she was trying to figure something out, something that she surely should be seeing but was having a hard time understanding what it was.

But Gilbert knew. He knew exactly what it was and part of him wanted her to see it. He remembered one time when Cole had approached him after a campfire all of them had gone to after graduation. At some point in the night, Anne was dancing near the fire, hair loose and laughing like she had no care in the world, and Gilbert couldn’t help but stare at her in awe.

She was so carefree in that moment — her worries about how the Cuthberts were going to be able to pay for school or if it was a good idea to leave them behind when she could easily go somewhere closer were long forgotten. She was just… Anne, the girl who belonged among the trees and flowers, who loved more deeply than anyone he had ever known.

Cole had stopped next to him, arms crossed as he watched their friend near the bonfire. “You look at her like she’s the moon and stars. You know that, right?”

Gilbert hadn’t answered, too focused on her to bother to form a response. To him, Anne was more than the moon and stars, she was the _sun._

And even now, as they locked eyes, for what seemed like an eternity, Gilbert couldn’t be more sure about the power she held over him, even if she didn’t know about it. The impulse to lean in and capture her lips with his own, even if it was just for a moment, only grew stronger.

Something shifted in the air and suddenly he didn’t feel like he had a drop of alcohol in his body. They were close — her shoulder was pressed to his, head resting on the back of the couch and eyes looking so intently at him, Gilbert was sure she could see his soul. He wanted to divert his eyes from her gaze, to make it all _stop_ so he could start to make sense of what was happening at the moment, but he couldn’t.

Anne had the most expressive eyes he’d ever seen. It wasn’t hard to read them most of the time and Gilbert prided himself in knowing what she was thinking before she said it out loud quite often. _The eyes are the windows to the soul,_ people said, but Anne’s were the window to her heart. Her beautiful heart that had a special space for every living creature, including him.

Gilbert.

Her _friend._

Oh how he wished he was more than that, so much more, but it was best not to go down that road. He had done it quite a few times, thinking how wonderful it would be if he was allowed to love her out loud. To hold her hand while they walked to their favorite coffee shop together to study or to even tuck that strand of hair that insisted on falling in her face whenever her hair was up in a ponytail behind her ear. After that, he’d cup her face, slowly caressing her cheeks before brushing his lips against her own, tasting the faint hint of her herbal tea that helped her relax.

Gilbert couldn’t go there because it hurt too much. He had accepted the fact they would never be more than friends a long time ago and he was fine with it, really. But now, she was so close to him that he could smell the vodka and strawberries coming off of her. And her _eyes._ Her big grey eyes were looking at him the same way she looked at one of her discoveries during her adventures in the woods when they were growing up.

Back then, it was always a leaf that sat lonely at the end of a branch in October or a bird with feathers matching the sun, singing all by itself to no one in particular. She’d often find them sad, imagining how something so beautiful could be so alone in the world and wondering how she could possibly make them feel less alone.

(They’d sat under that tree for an entire afternoon until the wind had helped that leaf join the others on the ground.)

(She’d watched the bird sing for an hour before it had flown away).

He wondered what she was seeing in him. Did he look lost or alone or sad? Would she watch him intently, keeping Gilbert company until… What?

_What was she waiting for?_

“Do you remember our first Christmas together?” Anne asked softly, catching him by surprise. “When you brought Bash and Matthew couldn’t stop staring at his soup because he was too shy to say anything but hello?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You were trying your best not to be rude to me in front of Marilla.”

“I made it most of the night, excuse me.” They laughed, and Anne continued. “You looked happy though. Or, at least, happier than we expected.”

“I think that was the first time since my dad died that I did, though. I think it was that moment I realized I wasn’t all by myself.”

“No, you weren’t. You’re still not.”

He frowned, confused. “Yeah, I know that.”

“Ruby used to say you had the saddest eyes, you know? Which, considering everything that was going on, was understandable.” She paused, as if she was trying to find the words. “But you still do. Not always, not all the time, but sometimes you look heartbroken.”

Ah. There it was.

How could he possibly begin to explain to her that she was the reason why he looked heartbroken? 

“Your brows are doing the thing.” Her pinky rested between his eyebrows, and he relaxed his face a little. “You’re thinking way too hard about this.”

“I’m not, I’m just…” he paused, taking a deep breath. “Thinking about us, you know? _The gang._ Next year it’ll be only me and Josie and I don’t want to lose contact with you… _all.”_

He felt awful lying to her like this, especially at Christmas, but what was he supposed to say? _I’m heartbroken because I am? Because while my heart belongs solely to you, yours belongs to someone else? Because I can never tell you how much I love you out loud?_

No. Then she’d be heartbroken on her favorite day of the year and it’d be his fault.

It was better this way, to be a liar instead of hurting her feelings. The problem, though, was that she knew him way too well to not notice when he wasn’t being honest with her. Still, he hoped she wouldn’t call him on it. At least not yet.

Instead, she held his hand, looking firmly in his eyes. “You will never lose us, Gil, I promise.”

He offered her a weak smile and, without any hesitation, dropped a kiss on her forehead. He leaned his head back against the couch, much closer to Anne’s face than before, his forehead almost touching hers. 

“Thank you, Anne-girl,” he said, voice low. And then, slowly, it was like they were the only two people in the world.

It had happened many times before. There were times where Gilbert would lock eyes with his best friend over the smallest of things and he would get lost in them, trapped in a bubble where everything else disappeared and she was the one thing that mattered.

Their friends sometimes teased him about it — Cole most of all — and every time it was like he had his heart in his throat, afraid he had been caught and Anne would _know_ what he really felt about her, but she never blinked twice. Anne would only smile and roll her eyes, like it was the most absurd thought that he was gone over her.

But sometimes.

 _Sometimes_ he wondered if she got lost in their little bubble as well. The way she blushed out of their trance, avoiding eye contact with him for a while and trying to focus on something else made him wish he could read her mind to _really_ know. 

_What if._

He blinked slowly, his eyes drifting to her parted lips, and he felt his mouth go dry, as if he hadn’t had a glass of water in ages. It was then that he realized that they had never been this close before, not even when they were kids and Anne examined the small scar on his cheek she caused years before. Right now he could not only smell her breath — a mix of cheap champagne and eggnog — but also feel it against his chin. In all their years of knowing each other, Gilbert didn’t think he’d ever wanted to kiss her more than he did right then and there.

But differently from all those other times, when Gilbert looked back at Anne, he saw something he hadn’t seen before and wasn’t sure he was seeing now: _desire._

He didn’t notice what he was doing until he felt his fingers brushing the ends of her hair as he slowly moved it up and touched her cheek gently. Her skin was warm and Gilbert wasn’t sure if it was because of the slight pink blush creeping upon her face or if it was due to the fire.

But Gilbert knew better. Gilbert knew _Anne_ better.

“Anne,” he breathed out, noses touching. Gilbert could almost feel her lips brushing his and if he just leaned in, he could finally find out what she tasted like.

But he couldn’t. As much as Gilbert wanted to and, from what he could see, Anne wanted to as well, he couldn’t make a move. Not only were they not sober and this would probably ruin their friendship… but Anne had a boyfriend. A fact, based on the look on her face, she was aware of.

“Gil…” she whispered, moving her eyes to look deeply into his, and he knew what she was going to say next. They should _stop._ He should let her go and they could pretend nothing had happened. Gilbert was sure if she asked that of him, he wouldn’t be able to follow through.

How could he pretend he didn’t see the look in her eyes, as vulnerable and raw as he had ever seen? It wouldn’t take a genius to read her face and figure out each and every emotion going through her eyes.

How could he pretend to not love Anne after that? It had been so long — twelve years of longing and wishing and hoping and now that he could see that she could possibly feel the same way, how could Gilbert forget all about it?

It was too hard and she’d be asking too much of him, and as much as it pained him to do so, Gilbert was sure his heart wouldn’t be able to handle the thought of not being able to be this close to her face again.

“Just… just a little longer,” he whispered, closing his eyes, hoping the tears forming behind them would just stay right there. Anne didn’t move and he was glad for it, being able to hold her close for a few more seconds before pressing his lips to her forehead, lingering for a moment before letting her go. 

It was only when he was alone back in his apartment, locked in his room, that Gilbert allows the tears to finally roll down his cheeks.

***

Avoiding Anne turned out to be much simpler when she wasn’t there. 

When Gilbert woke up the day after Christmas, temple throbbing due to the many drinks he’d had the night before, the first thing he thought about was Anne. The image of her big grey eyes was buried in his mind, looking at him with such remorse for letting things get as far as they did.

It made his heart clench in his chest, and Gilbert closed his eyes once more, hoping to be able to get back to sleep and feel nothing instead. But his mouth was dry and he needed to pee and go to work for his shift, so any chance of burying his face in his pillow and sleeping to avoid all this was impossible.

The day went by in a blurr, with him running around attending to patients, writing charts for his superiors, participating in a skill lab and even observing a surgery when he should’ve been sleeping before his next round. He had so many things to think about, to do even, but his mind wouldn’t let him forget for more than a second the way Anne had looked at him the night before. He was sure she wanted him as much as he wanted her, so why had she stopped?

Gilbert knew that wasn’t fair. No matter how much he replayed that moment in his head, trying to come up with any kind of explanation or reasoning as to why Anne had rejected him, he couldn’t really expect her to cheat on her boyfriend, who she loved with all her heart — because that was the only way she knew how — because of him, and it was cruel to ask her to do so.

When he headed home that night, Gilbert prayed he didn’t stumble into her in the hallways. The thought of seeing her and watching her eyes fill with regret or shame or… God, was there a chance that she could hate him? For what he almost did?

As if he was reading his mind, Gilbert received a text from Cole, letting him know that he wouldn’t be home for the night since he was at a bar with the girls. Cole didn’t name any names, but Gilbert knew it was his way of letting him know the coast was clear. It wasn’t hard to assume that she had told him everything.

The next few days were pretty much the same. Wake up, go to work, avoid his friends, go to sleep and repeat it all the next day. He couldn’t help but feel numb most parts of the day, unable to focus on his work or even shut his mind up in his sleep. Subconsciously, everything was Anne, Anne, _Anne._ He dreamed about her smile, her eyes, her hair, her laugh. In some of them, she was smiling at him, her eyes bright and happy as she reached for his hand. In others, it was her pulling away, looking at him as he had broken her heart and her trust, crying at losing her friend forever.

Those last ones occurred more times than not and it was wearing him out fast. So fast that even his colleagues and attendings looked at him with worry and pity, probably thinking he was having a hard time keeping up with the amount of stress and pressure the job required. That was the last thing he wanted people to assume, but how could he possibly begin to explain what the actual problem was?

“Gilbert, are you alright?” one of his attendings asked, looking at him with concern.

He nodded, avoiding her eyes. “I’m fine, I just… Have a lot on my mind. I’m sorry.”

Dr. Oak frowned, looking closely at him. “This looks like a lot more than that. You look like you were run over by a truck,” she said, crossing her arms. “Have you been sleeping?”

“Yes, I—”

“And before you answer, I’d like to remind you that you are dealing with lives here. ot just me, but other other attendings have noticed how off you are and that your performance hasn’t been the most attentive lately.” She paused, watching him. “You can’t afford to make mistakes on patients.”

“I haven’t made any mistakes, Dr. Oak.”

 _“Yet,”_ she added. “Now, answer me.”

“I—” he sighed. He thought he was doing a better job than this at hiding it, but if Dr. Oak felt the need to pull him aside and ask him about it, clearly he was in worse shape than he gave himself credit for. “No, I’ve been having a hard time sleeping these past few days.”

She nodded. “Well, that settles it then. Perhaps it’s best if you take the night off and catch up on some sleep.”

“What? No, I can’t. Dr. Mills’ surgery is in two hours and I’m suppose to be observing it and I’m monitoring Mrs. Russell post-op—”

Dr. Oak raised her hand, stopping him from continuing. “It’s not in the patients’ best interest to have someone who isn’t able to give them the care they need. And you, Mr. Blythe, would be of better use when you’re able to keep your head straight.”

“But—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” The tone of her voice made it clear it wasn’t just a simple suggestion. “If I recall, you’re on night shift?” He nodded. “Then you’ll have plenty of time to get some rest. Goodnight, Gilbert.”

He finished updating his charts, stalling as much as possible before he absolutely had to go home. Cole most certainly would be home, and avoiding his roommate, just as he was avoiding Anne, would be harder. He knew Cole wanted to talk to him about something and even though he hadn’t specified what exactly, it wasn’t hard to guess what it would be.

Anne thought out loud and surely had talked to him about the whole situation, seeking his advice. Cole had known about Gilbert’s feelings towards her for ages and it wouldn’t be hard to guess what he would probably say to him.

 _You should’ve told her sooner,_ he’d say. _Probably when both of you weren’t drunk as well._

Gilbert didn’t need that right now, but he had no choice but to go home. It had just stopped snowing, so he should take advantage of it instead of risking going home in a snowstorm. He quickly showered and changed out of his scrubs before ordering an Uber and trying to kill the time, figuring out what to order to eat when he got home.

At the notification his driver would be arriving soon, Gilbert stopped by the front door, looking around to see if he could spot the car anywhere near, when something caught his eye. There, pacing back and forth and, from what it seemed from where Gilbert was standing, talking to herself, was Anne. His body froze. After avoiding her for the past few days, having her standing in front of his workplace was the last place he’d have thought she’d be.

Gilbert wasn’t sure what to do next. The choices were clear: to walk away and spare his heart for a little while longer or to walk towards her and face what would probably be a painful and awkward conversation where she’d ask him to step out of her life for good for the sake of her relationship. It made his heart clench at the thought, but it didn’t surprise him that’s what she was there for.

But a life without Anne would mean what, exactly? He wouldn’t have his favorite person to talk to about anything on his mind. Who else would sit with him and actually listen to how his day went at work? Or tease him for refusing to give the girl at Starbucks a fake name since she never got his right? Would he have to ignore her at family gatherings such as Christmas and Easter? 

He wouldn’t be there to listen to her laugh about the silliest things on TV or even to listen to her cry whenever someone put on any movie where the dog was the main character. No one would shove a book into his arms and demand he read it because she needed to talk about it, or even hold her in his arms anymore whenever either one of them needed comfort.

After years of friendship, it would all end it in one conversation. Well, he thought, it had already ended the moment he almost kissed her. He couldn’t blame her for wanting him out of her life after that.

But… Did he want that tonight? Did he want to face her and see that look on her face again? It might be selfish, to try and spare his heart one more day when she was already there and looking as anxious as he probably did. Still, he wondered if he could text his Uber driver asking him to meet him somewhere else and leave without Anne noticing his presence.

But before he could even glance down at his phone to text the driver, Anne looked in his direction and stood still, taking in his presence. Now he had no other option but to face her. With a deep breath, he cancelled the ride and walked towards her.

“Hey,” he said, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

“Gil,” she whispered, biting at her lip nervously. “Hi.”

Her eyes quickly moved to her hands, as if she was desperate to look at anything _but_ him. Gilbert tried to ignore the way his stomach twitched in knots. It was already torture to know what was coming next, but to watch her struggle to get it out was worse. If she could only say it, rip it off like a band-aid, perhaps it would hurt less.

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to help her get to the point.

“Uh, have you been waiting long? It’s… cold.” He looked around, to the snow, as if he was making a point but also unable to face her for too long. Instead, he focused on the thin white layer around them, wondering how long it would look that way.

Snow wasn’t his favorite thing in the world, even though he enjoyed winter. Back in Avonlea, as beautiful as the farm looked covered in layers and layers of snow, it was also the most inconvenient thing to have around. There was never a clear path to walk in and by the time it got a little warmer, it would melt and turn into the biggest dirty mess. In Toronto it was somehow better, but it made his job so much harder than it had to be. It was common to get at least ten people a day to treat some sort of accident related to it. 

But he knew, for Anne, that was a whole different line of thought. Ever since they were kids, she waited excitedly for the first snow of the season. It always made her smile watching the white snowflakes fall from the sky as she told him one of the many stories regarding her beloved Snow Queen and how much it meant to her that she had not forgotten to bless them with such a beautiful sight.

His eyes moved back to hers, missing the way her big grey eyes would shine when taking in their surroundings. Now, however, they weren’t focused on anything but him, full of uncertainty and apprehension. 

God, if he could be literally anywhere else right now.

“Uh, yeah, a little bit. Cole dropped me off half an hour ago and I was just… wondering when you’d be off.”

At her words, Gilbert took a better look at her. One of the things that was always so typically Anne and that always got to Marilla’s nerves — with reason, he might add — was how unprepared she always was. He remembered Marilla yelling at Anne to take an extra coat whenever she went out or even a scarf, knowing that it wouldn’t be past her to leave Green Gables and catch hypothermia on her way to school.

And, just as if they were both fourteen again, there stood Anne wearing Marilla’s knitted sweater she got for Christmas and a slightly thicker coat over it. A scarf or even a hat was nowhere to be seen, even though he noticed she at least had the decency to put on a pair of gloves.

“You’ve been out in the cold wearing only that?” he asked, already taking off his scarf and wrapping it around her neck. “Dammit, Anne, the day you get hypothermia, we’ll hear Marilla’s _I told you so_ from Avonlea.”

“I’m fine, it’s not even _that_ cold.” She rolled her eyes, accepting his scarf anyways. “I need to talk to you.”

“Maybe we should get inside and get you some hot chocolate and maybe see if there’s a hat in the lost and found—”

 _“Gilbert,”_ she said, getting his attention. 

“Right. You need to talk to me.” He nodded, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms to make sure she was warm enough. Instead, he took off his hat and put it on her, just to make sure she was warm enough. “Sorry, I’m a bit distracted.”

“I thought your shift ended in a few hours…”

“It does.” He looked down, clearing his throat. “Dr. Oak gave me the rest of the night off so I could… I haven’t been sleeping well and it’s starting to affect my work.”

“Oh.” Her eyes roamed his face, noticing how tired he must look. He wasn’t sure what was worse: the bags under his eyes or how unfocused they seemed at the moment due to his exhaustion.

Anne bit her lip, furrowing her eyebrows at the sight of him. He could remember when he was in this exact same shape after one particularly hard day after work, when she found him, eight cups of coffee in, trying to finish a paper on the molecular structure of a cancer patient. It was nice to see that, even though the worst was about to happen, she still cared for him as much as before.

“I went to Ottawa,” she finally blurted out. Gilbert blinked in surprise at her words. _What?_ Noticing the look on his face, she quickly continued. “Roy, he spent Christmas with his mother and I went to see him. Cole drove me two days ago.”

“Anne—”

“After Christmas I had to talk to him and it couldn’t wait. He said he’d be here in two days but then he wasn’t so I decided to go myself. What happened—”

Gilbert could feel his stomach sink with dread. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t hear her say what a mistake it was and how much she didn’t want to do this with him, and risk their friendship. Her relationship with Roy was important and Gilbert being here would only jeopardize it. 

“You don’t have to—” he tried to make her stop, but to no effect. 

“I _do._ What happened between us was… I don’t even have a word for it. I wasn’t expecting it, or at least I thought I wasn’t but then you looked at me that way and I… Gilbert, why didn’t you ever say anything?

“What?”

“You never… You never even…” She took a deep breath, crossing her arms. “I mean, the girls always teased me about it and Cole always said that you—- But you _never_ said… And then on Christmas, with the gift, the _bracelet…_ And after that...I thought it was the alcohol, I thought it was just…But you looked at me that way and I—”

“Anne, _stop,”_ he pleaded, voice pained as he closed his eyes. He couldn’t hear her do this, not right now. His head was still killing him, his temples throbbing and his heart heavy against his chest. It was too much and it was too hard to keep it up. “Just… please, get to the point.”

She seemed to notice then, how broken he looked right now. Her eyes softened as she took a step closer to him, cradling his face between her hands. This close, Gilbert could see her better — how her nose and cheeks were a light shade of pink from the cold, her lips gently trembling, and he could even see the smallest of snowflakes in her red eyelashes just like they were in her hair. At any other moment, he’d smile and tell her she looked like someone out of a fairytale book and she’d emit the most beautiful sound with her laughter.

But right now—- Right now it _hurt._ So, once again, he begged.

“Anne, _please.”_

But she stayed silent, looking at him intently. He didn’t understand why she was doing this, prolonging this, torturing him with it. After a few more seconds of silence, she finally sighed, ready to end it all.

“I broke up with Roy.”

He froze, eyes wide as he digested her words. Now it was his turn to remain speechless, looking at her intently as she watched him process the information. In the many scenarios he had played out in his head, none of them had gone to this particular moment.

“You— You _what?”_

“I broke up with him,” she repeated, eyes fixed on him. “I went to Ottawa and ended it.”

“But… But _why?”_

She stepped closer to him, her hands still cupping his face as her thumbs moved slowly against his cheeks. When she spoke again, her voice was soft and quiet. “You know why.”

But he didn’t. He didn’t know why. Or maybe he did, maybe he suspected it and if he focused long enough on her eyes, he’d know for sure. Gilbert squeezed his eyes closed, trying to think, to _focus,_ but it was hard. Especially when she was so close to him, when everything that was leaving her mouth didn't make any sense at all.

So, he told her. “I don’t, Anne. I really don’t.”

“Gil—”

“I can’t… I can’t do this right now. Whatever this is. I’m sorry you and Roy are over, I’m sorry for the other night, I never meant to ruin our relationship or… or… yours with Roy—”

“That’s not—”

He could feel the tears pricking behind his eyes, no longer able to keep his emotions buried anymore. He didn’t want to do this here — or at all, for that matter — to break in front of her and let her see how much of a wreck he was because of his actions. 

“I should have told you, I know that, but I didn’t… I didn’t think that you’d _ever_ —” He inhaled, heart clenching, finally being able to tell her. “So I never said anything, to avoid _this_ happening but—-”

The words died in his mouth as Anne stepped closer to him, pulling his face down before pressing her lips against his. Their lips moved slowly and her kiss was tender and shy, almost if she wasn’t sure if it would even be welcomed, as if Gilbert had not just declared his feelings about her. Anne’s lips were soft and sweet and perfect, sending his heart into a frenzy.

She pulled back a moment later, eyes still closed, and rested her forehead against his, breathing him in for a moment. Gilbert, however, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from her flushed face, feeling a little less overwhelmed but more confused than ever.

“Anne—” he exhaled, voice ragged.

“It’s you, Gil,” she whispered, opening her eyes, grey meeting hazel. “You’re the reason why. You did nothing wrong, I was just caught off guard and then scared of what it would mean for us… For us to be together.”

“Together?”

She blushed, nodding. “I should be the one apologizing, for not realizing before. Not only your feelings but mine as well. Otherwise this... This _mess_ wouldn’t have happened.”

“So… You’re saying…” he said, looking at her hopefully. “By feelings, you mean…”

“I love _you,_ Gilbert,” Anne whispered, her voice caught in her throat, taking a few steps back from him. He missed her warmth immediately, wanting her back, face so close to his. “I’ve loved you for a long time now and I’m sorry it took me this much time and pain to realize it. I don’t… expect you to forgive me, not after all this, but I wanted you to know.”

It was his turn to step closer to her, gently touching her coat, almost afraid she’d pull away from him. Part of him wasn’t sure if this was real: Anne telling him about her feelings for him in the way he had always hoped for, just after a kiss. So many times he had thought about this moment and now it was finally happening and he still wasn’t completely sure it was real.

But if it wasn’t the fact that he was touching her, feeling the warmth of her body, so close to his, and looking at that beautiful, wonderful girl in front of him who was still talking non-stop, Gilbert would be sure all that had happened was only on his mind.

“I don’t want to… assume anything.” She hesitated for a second, trying to find the right words. “I don’t expect you to want anything from me after making you so miserable for so many years and especially these last few days. I just broke up with Roy thirty-six hours ago and—”

“You love me,” he repeated her previous words, stopping her from continuing.

“Yes.”

“You love me, _romantically.”_

 _“Yes.”_ She stopped, a hint of apprehension crossing her eyes. “Do _you?”_

Without giving a second thought, he pulled her to his arms, capturing her lips with his own. When she’d kissed him a few moments ago, it was an uncertain and shy kiss, from both parts. Anne didn’t know how well she would be received and Gilbert wasn’t sure what was happening in that moment, but now… Now, there was none of that. 

To say that Anne’s lips were anything but intoxicating would be an understatement. Her face was cold, from the time waiting for him out in the open, and Gilbert couldn’t help but pull her closer to him, kissing her deeper, hoping it would be enough to keep her warmer. 

It wasn’t hard to get lost in her. From the smell of flowers of her shampoo to the way her nose was pressed against his cheek and the feel of her hair on his fingers as he buried his hands in her locks. His lips moved slower after a moment as he explored every corner of her mouth and it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Anne was the one who pulled away, pressing her lips a few times to his lips and chin before slowly opening her eyes to look at him again. Everything he ever wished to see in those big grey eyes was there at that moment. The love, the want, the need. At last, she was looking at _him_ that way.

“Yes.” He pulled her closer, cupping her cheek. “I love you, Anne. I’ve always loved you, ever since we were kids and you smashed my Kindle on my face. I’ve loved every freckle, every smile, every haircut you ever had, every tear and every laugh. I’ve loved every bit of you, inside and out, for as long as I can remember.”

The corner of her mouth quirking up at his words made him only want to continue to tell her how much he loved her, but, almost as a reminder of where they were, he heard the sound of an ambulance siren in the distance. They were still in front of the hospital, surrounded by snow as Anne was still dressed in so few layers of clothing.

As if reading his mind, Anne left his embrace, taking his hand in hers. “I know we still have a lot to talk about but what about we go home?” Her other hand gently touched his cheek. “You need to rest.”

Later that night, they both were lying in Gilbert’s bed, under plenty of blankets to keep them warm. He had asked her to stay, still not ready to part from her, and she had agreed, feeling the same way. It was comfortable, being that close to her, in such an intimate way, knowing nothing else was between them, not physically or emotionally. Gilbert sighed happily, head resting on her chest, listening to her heartbeat as she gently ran her fingers through his curls.

Having her there with him, _actually_ there, body and soul, in his arms just like he had always thought about since they were teens meant everything to him. As much as he had hoped, over the years the possibility seemed so much less likely to become true, becoming present only in his dreams.

It didn't take long for his body to melt pressed against hers, blinking slowly as he tried his best not to fall asleep just so he could savor that moment and that feeling for a little while longer.

But with her lips pressed against his forehead, her sweet scent surrounding him and knowing that she was finally his and he was hers, it didn’t take long for him to fall into what would be the first good night’s sleep in a long time.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This fic was kinda sorta based on that episode of The Office where Jim gets Pam a tea pot. I did watch the episode to see what happens because I don't and never have watched The Office but I thought it would make more sense for Gilbert and Anne if I wrote a different dynamic.
> 
> I would like to thank my beautiful beta and amazing friend Sabrina for helping me out every time I had no idea what to do and spend over two hours on facetime with me trying to figure out this fic. Not to mention for being so patient when I did not finished this with much time for her to go through it but she did it because she's the bestest. Ily.
> 
> Also a HUGE thank you to Elle. It was cruel having no one to talk about this fic with and spending my nights with you talking about this and encouraging each other to write was amazing and super fun. Thank you so so much.
> 
> I hope you all liked this end of the year fic and I wish you all happy holidays and hope that 2021 will be a better year for us all.
> 
> Don't forget to check the collection of The Shirbert Circle to get more amazing Secret Santa gifs!
> 
> You can all find me on my twitter (@lillieswho) and tumblr (@anneshirlei)


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